


Another One

by BeautifulWorld



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is having a bad time, Election stress, Feliciano also has anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, alfred having anxiety attacks, but the other nations are there for him, from my fanfiction.net account, i get really tired of politics and i guess this came out of it, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6694444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulWorld/pseuds/BeautifulWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"America…" Ludwig sighed, turning his head to look at the American nation. "You had better not be asleep up there." When they looked at him, the six of them, they didn't see a sleeping teenager. In fact, Alfred was completely awake. But his eyes were staring straight ahead, unblinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day. A long day filled with speeches and discussions and arguing and problems that no one even wanted to think about. The meeting kept dragging on, the clock kept ticking... Some of them wished that it would explode so they could have something to distract themselves with. Unfortunately, no one was willing to pay for it, and the meeting continued uninterrupted.

The room was filled with such an air of depression and boredom that it seemed to suck the life out of anyone and everyone in it. They had already taken more breaks than intended and that was just because after a few speeches none of them could physically or mentally stand it anymore... and the meeting wasn't even halfway over yet.

The nations wanted Gilbert to break in and joke around, but they knew that the Prussian had promised his brother he wouldn't at this meeting. They had wanted to get something done so they wouldn't have to repeat all of this at another meeting, though most of them were regretting that decision now.

Alfred was the one at the podium at the moment, or as they had silently decided to call it, the stick of torture. They wanted the American to throw ridiculous and imaginatively hopeful ideas around like they were nothing-like there was no doubt in his mind they could achieve them- but it wasn't meant to happen today. Every nations had to give a routine speech about the state their country was in, and... well... it was the thing most of them dreaded.

Alfred was in the middle of his speech now. No one was paying attention at this point, but if they had been they would have noticed that he had begun to go off, slow down. His voice was falling in volume as well. It was far quieter now than when he had first started. Heck, some of them didn't think they had heard him talk that quietly in years.

It took them a few moments to notice that he had finally stopped completely. Slowly they became aware of the silence. Their brains started to flicker on, and realize why that was so odd.

"America…" Ludwig sighed, turning his head to look at the American nation. "You had better not be asleep up there."

But when they looked at him, the six of them, they didn't see a sleeping teenager. Alfred was completely awake, but his eyes were staring straight ahead, unblinking. He looked shell shocked.

"Is he alright…?" Arthur asked, worry suddenly coating his tone. Despite how much he tried to hide it, he did care about the American. The nations around him didn't respond, but they were much more awake now, some ready to get on their feet.

Ivan, being closer to the podium, stood quietly. "Fredka?" He asked softly. Getting no response, he furrowed his eyebrows and poked the younger nation's arm.

The reaction was instantaneous. Alfred's eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, jumped backwards, stumbled, and landed with a thump on the ground. That hardly seemed to have any effect, and he scooted further backwards, staring in front of him without seeing. His breathing was beginning to speed up, the sound that broke them all from their trance.

The other nations stood, running towards their fellow country.

Francis looked between Alfred and Ivan, shocked. "W-what did you do?" He asked the Russian.

Ivan blinked, looking at his 'rival', equally flabbergasted. "I just… poked him."

The Frenchman knelt next to he younger nation, and Feliciano wasn't far behind. "...Alfred?" The Italian coaxed softly, using the caring tone the he always seemed to have. "What's wrong?"

They watched closely and saw Alfred's lips move, but heard nothing. Francis leaned forward, eyebrows clinching together with worry. "What is it?" He asked, confusion all but leaking from his voice. "Is something going on?"

Alfred's lips moved again and this time both of the European countries caught the whispered words. "-another one."

Suddenly Kiku was on his knees next to him, worry for his friend breaking through his usually calm demeanor. "Is he alright? What did he say?"

Francis felt even more confused than before. His mind was going through question after question, trying to understand what was going on. "He said… another one."

"Are people dying?" Arthur's voice felt like a loud boom in the quiet room, the worry in his tone mixing with franticness. The other nations looked between each other at the question. They had no clue...

Ivan slowly shook his head. "No…Sadly, people are always dying..." He motioned to the American. "And there are no major wounds. No minor ones either as far as I can see." He was baffled, though he was starting to wonder if he recognized these symptoms.

"Then what is it?" Ludwig had moved next to them now, scanning over the American despite everything. "I checked the news. No disasters."

"Not another one."

Alfred's voice was louder this time, cutting through the pause like a knife. Everyone had heard it.

Feliciano put a hand on the Americans shoulder, struck by how scared the younger nation looked. However, that only seemed to make it worse. Alfred scooted back further, hitting the wall, though he gave no notice. The Italians hand withdrew instantly, his eyes widening. "I-I didn't…"

"I know all of you didn't."

This voice came from behind each and every one of them. Though it was usually so quiet anyone could miss it, it now had a hard, warning edge. They turned to see someone who looked remarkably similar to Alfred, but at the same time... he didn't.

"...Mathieu," Francis whispered. He looked as if a wave of relief had suddenly washed over him. The Canadian had been late to the meeting. What a time for him to arrive... "Do you know what-"

Matthew nodded immediately, motioning for them to get out of the way. "Could you move please so I can help my brother?" They could see the flash of anger behind his eyes and quickly obliged, scooting away to let him take care of whatever this was.

Arthur met the Canadian's eyes. "Is he going to be alright?" He was trying to make sure he was giving the two as much space as they needed, though he felt like closing in and doing whatever he could to help.

"In a bit, yeah." There was a bit of hesitation in his words.They watched as Matthew sat in front of his twin and crossed his legs, the anger in his violet orbs leaving instantly, and when he spoke his quiet voice held so much care inside of it. "Alfred."

Alfred didn't react, or at least not right away, though there was a slight hitch in his breath. The most unnerving thing to the nations hit them like a smack in the face. Matthew was treating this as if it were a normal occurrence, but... it couldn't be, could it?

Matthew slowly reached out a hand and rested it on his brother's shoulder. The others expected the American to move away again like he did with Feliciano, but that was not the case. Instead of flinching or pressing himself further against the wall, he didn't move. Then, without any hesitation, Matthew pulled his brother into a hug.  
For a moment Alfred stayed still. Then, as if at a snail's pace, he returned the gesture.

Matthew laid his chin on his brother's shoulder, reassuring softly, "It's okay Alfred. It's okay…"

"Not another civil war..." Alfred breathed, his voice louder than it had been since the episode had begun. "Not another one."

The nations, or most of then anyway, had been trying not to listen to the brothers' conversation. However, they couldn't help but overhear what had been said... They blinked in surprise, unsure what the younger nation was talking about. Matthew nodded however, like those words were as familiar as 'good morning.' "I know… There won't be another one, Alfred."

The American finally blinked and no one could decide if the drop that fell from his eyes was from holding them open for so long or the emotions that had to be running through him. They watched, some unable to keep from staring, as the young superpower began to shake.

Matthew rubbed his brother's back, a sad but understanding light in his eyes. "I know Al, I know…"

Francis started, unable to stop the words before they left his mouth, "But there isn't a civil wa-"

Alfred immediately froze up again, and Matthew's head whipped around so fast they thought it would break. He glared at them, whispering angrily, "Do NOT say that." He hardly paid them any mind after that, turning back to his brother. "It's okay… It won't happen, Alfred, it's alright."

The American nation took a slow, shallow breath and hid his head in Matthew's shoulder. "I don't want another one." His voice shook lightly, and the nations had the good grace to turn away, and give the two their privacy.

"It's not going happen, Al," Matthew assured. "I promise. And do I ever break my promises?" They didn't hear the response, but they could catch the Canadian's nod. "That's right, I haven't. It will be okay."

"I don't want them to fight..."

Matthew stilled in their peripherals, and he muttered, "I know…" He trailed off in to silence for what had to be too long and Alfred's breathing began to shift again, becoming quicker. He muttered, "No, no, it's okay bro. Everything's alright… We can get them to stop alright? How does that sound?"

There was a sigh of relief. "Good." The agreement finally seemed to calm the nation down. After a minute or so, his breathing didn't shake. It sounded as if it were back to normal.

Matthew towards them again, his eyes having lost most of their fire. He looked in the other direction, towards the far side of the room. It didn't take a genius to see he was telling them to go, and they did.

_

They watched from afar as Matthew set a cup of hot chocolate on the table and sat in the chair next to Alfred's. The Canadian spoke to his brother for a few moments and they couldn't help but smile when as they listened.

("Drink this; it'll make you feel better."

"But I need coffee Matt… I'll fall asleep if I don't."

"Good, you need sleep... but hey, at least this isn't really bitter."

"Don't hate on my coffee."

"Don't hate on my hot chocolate.")

Then their voices disappeared, the two obviously not wanting to be heard. After a brief moment, Matthew stood and started walking towards them. The group had to fight the sudden urge to run as he neared them. Matthew crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting.

Feliciano started talking, somehow managing to keep his voice too low for Alfred to hear as he strung together words at one hundred miles per hour. "We're so sorry. We didn't know that would happen. Al I did was- It-"

Matthew held up a hand, his expression calming a little after seeing how frantic the older nation was... and, for that matter, how concerned they all were. "Its…" He let out a sigh. "It's alright… I know that you had no idea that he does that."

"And what exactly…" Arthur began, glancing towards the American he had raised, "was … that?" The other nations watched the Canadian, very much wanting to know the answer to that question as well.

"It looked very... unpleasant." Kiku added, his gaze shifting to the floor.

Matthew paused, looking torn. He gave a cautionary glance towards his brother before he spoke. "I shouldn't even tell you this..." His eyes narrowed dangerously, the fire flickering to life one more. "And I swear if you tell anyone else about this I will-…" The threat went unfinished and he ran a hand through his hair. He looked to be biting back another sigh as he gave into their question. "Alright… When Alfred thinks about what's going on, how the economy is-and yes I know other places are much worse off- but sometimes…" He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. It was obvious that this had been between he and Alfred for some time. "Sometimes he gets caught up in the thoughts of his citizens. And usually, almost always I think, they are fighting. And he gets stuck in that, in the constant debating and…" He seemed at a loss for words, turning away from them but still out of sight of his brother. Slowly, he finished, "He gets in the mind frame that there will be another civil war."

The nations remained silent, fully understanding the situation now. It was a wonder they hadn't before...

"Will it get any better?" Ludwig questioned, watching the American nation.

Matthew didn't answer right away. "I... I think that's up to them..." He shook his head to himself, meeting their eyes. "Please don't make him get caught up in it again. And if he does, call me." With that, he left to take his brother home.


	2. Through His Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See the events of the last chapter through Alfred's eyes. Enter the void.

Alfred sat in his appointed chair, staring almost blankly at the cup of coffee in front of him. The other nations were in the break room and not many were talking. Most of them just stood there, in the room whose atmosphere seemed so different from this one, trying to get the thoughts out of their heads.

They thought he wasn't good at reading the mood and maybe he wasn't, but he knew that they were trying to do the same thing he was.

He took a sip of his drink, feeling the bitterness all the way down his throat. After a moment he set it down and pushed it aside, hardly wanting it anymore. The blond turned his head towards the stick of torture, an almost sick feeling entering his stomach.

He could almost hear it already; the voices. He didn't want to go up there and talk. It didn't help that the others were completely ignorant about what would happen if he did. It didn't look like Matt had made it here either…

He glanced around the room, like his brother would just appear out of thin air if he looked a little harder. He felt anxious at not being able to find him. If Matthew wasn't here then there was no help for him. But… he was a superpower. He was a nation. Despite what he thought, he still had to get up there and make the god damned speech.

The other nations slowly returned, many with drinks of their own, and he had to hold back a sigh. Francis sat next to him, which was apparently where he had been assigned. He hadn't really noticed.

The rest of them looked as worn as he did. Feliciano wasn't smiling, but when he looked at them from his spot across the table he gave it his best shot. Alfred had to give him credit for that. When no one could spare a smile, even him, at least Feli tried.

He often wondered why Lovino rarely came to these meetings. He thought that the Italian's brother had been scheduled to come, or maybe Feliciano had convinced him, but when they had arrived it had only been the younger twin. He was sure he knew why now. Lovino was usually a downer and being here? It was torture enough if you tried to stay positive. He could imagine him rage quitting in the middle of the meeting and just walking out the door after yelling at them.

"Alfred."

The American blinked, coming out of the train of thought that had so kindly been distracting him. Ludwig was sitting now and had shifted his gaze to the stupid stick of torture.

Slowly, he nodded and stood, grabbing his papers. He walked like every step hurt and, in a way, it kind of did. When he reached his podium he set the papers down and looked them over. He knew that they wanted, needed, him to say something stupid. Or hopeful, or really just… anything but what he had to say. He would have loved to give them that. Really, he wanted to do that more than anything at the moment. However, they had made this a 'no bullshit' meeting, which was why Gilbert hadn't busted through the doors to save them and why he probably wouldn't be doing so at any point throughout.

For a moment he was silent and, though he knew that everyone wouldn't listen to his speech (some might try, but it would be useless), they were waiting for him to start. He just wished they could go home…

Alfred looked at his papers and took a deep breath. Despite himself, his voice didn't come out nearly as strong as he had wanted. "Things are getting tougher." That sounded so incredibly stupid. Of course things were getting tougher, they always were. It was life. But…he kept going. "My country is doing alright. We make it by okay, but job opportunities are falling, the gas prices keep going up…" The debt kept getting larger and larger…

Though he wasn't sure how to put things in to words, he was trying to stay away from the subject that would make his mind go into chaos. But… it was part of the state of his country, of himself. "There are a lot of arguments going on between the parties about many different issues." Many that he didn't want to think about or bring up at the moment.

As he kept going he saw the images starting to form in his mind; the congress members arguing, the protests that kept going on…

"There are protests about rights and other controversial ideas. I know you've probably got them in your countries as well…" He started to trail off, despite having so much more of his speech he had to get on with. He really thought he would get further than this… Maybe it was because Matt wasn't here.

He couldn't get the words out. The pictures were becoming clearer and the voices were making their way in to the edge of his consciousness. They started out as whispers, but they would get louder. They always did.

He tried to go on. His mouth kept moving, but he wasn't sure how loud or soft he was speaking anymore. He was hardly aware of the words that were even tumbling out.

"There's fighting… a lot of fighting." That brought back memories or battlefields and bloodshed. He pushed them back. "People are arguing constantly…"

The voices grew stronger. There were so many; men, women, protestors, teenagers, congressman, senators, parents, children… They came from every corner of his brain and drowned out almost everything else. With each one the memories became looser, ready to escape.

His mouth had stopped moving. He tried to stop thinking in some way, avert them, but that only made them grow. He was ever so vaguely aware of the podium he was gripping, holding for his sanity.

There might have been another voice. He had no idea whose it could be. It merely blended with the others. Then something touched him.

He felt it. It was like a prod, just wanting him to move along, but… It felt like he had crashed into a brick wall, or… to be more specific… the brick wall was crashing all over him.

The memories shot out around him, right before his eyes. The voices exploded.

"What do you think we should try to do to fix it?"

"Where do you think this country's headed?"

"Let's move somewhere else."

"Look at this! We can't even pay the bills."

"Fucking healthcare."

"The government shut down. They can't even reach a decision!"

He fell backwards from the weight of it, trying to get away as the images berated him, one after the other. They wouldn't stop. He just wanted them to stop.

People were protesting again. They were in front of him with signs. They changed so fast he couldn't read them but he knew they were covered with issues. Abortion or not, human rights, wages, unemployment, spying… It would never stop.

"…another one."

The people were criticizing everything and… he heard all of it. And they could do it all they wanted, really, they were entitled. But he didn't want this.

The marches were starting to show their faces. He felt more panic at hearing them; the drums, the thousands of feet moving along with the horses. He didn't want to see it again. "Not another one."

There was a hand on his shoulder and the marching grew louder. A pain shot through his abdomen and he tried to get away from it, from the northern and southern soldiers that clashed in front of him. They were screaming at each other, yelling battle cries and talking about strategies to kill one another; to win.

He could feel it; the sensation that he was splitting apart again, becoming two different people almost. He hit something solid and couldn't get any further away.

Blood was everywhere. Bodies were everywhere. Voices were yelling at him; his people. They hated him, didn't they…?

He had lost more of them to himself than anything else… and he never wanted to see it happen again. He never wanted to see that kind of bloodshed again.

He just wanted them all to get along.

Another voice came, but it was… different. It was soft, like it knew the chaos he was seeing. "Alfred."

He knew the voice. He wanted to speak, but as soon it left everything was louder than before. There were more deaths, more… There was screaming now.

There was another hand on his shoulder, but the touch was much like the voice. It wanted to help. Then, suddenly, he was warm. Two arms were wrapped around him, protecting him. He tried to move his arms, but they responded slowly. It was like he wasn't attached to them anymore.

A chin was set on his shoulder and the quiet voice spoke again. "It's okay Alfred. It's okay…"

He wanted to cry as the pain ebbed ever so slightly. It was Matthew. His brother always came. He felt relief, but then he couldn't remember exactly why he felt so much of it. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

Alfred was barely aware of his mouth moving, still looking out at the battlefield, his ears still filled with arguing. "Not another civil war… Not another one." He needed his brother to understand. He could see it, all of it.

He felt Matthew nod. "I know…There won't be another one Alfred."

…There wouldn't? It wouldn't…

He finally blinked, his eyes stinging. Something dripped down his face (he hoped it wasn't blood) and he couldn't hold still. He couldn't stop trembling.

A hand started to go up and down his back. "I know Al, I know."

He was so glad someone knew. Matthew could help him; get him out of this place. He started to see other things; the outline of the podium, the color of the carpet. He heard another voice.

"-civil wa-"

Everything snapped back again. He was being blasted with voices and the arguments were worse. He felt like he might be sick.

Succession. That's what they were talking about now. He remembered more and more of his states doing that; more and more of his children leaving him. He hadn't wanted them to go… He hadn't wanted to upset them. He just wanted everyone to be happy.

Matthew's voice spoke again, but not to him. It was still quiet, but now it was angry like everything else. It melded together with the rest, but it was drowned out too.

More battles. Too much blood. Too much. Too many dead.

"It's okay… It won't happen, Alfred, it's alright."

He breathed in, feeling like he couldn't get enough air, and tried to hide from everything. He felt the eyes on him. "I don't want another one."

"It won't happen, Al. I promise. And do I ever break my promises?"

He shook his head. Never, even when they fought.

"That's right, I haven't. It will be okay."

Alfred didn't look up, but he could still hear it, still see it. "I don't want them to fight." They were all the same people. If they just wanted to do what was best… couldn't they just get along? Couldn't they just work together?

"I know…"

Matthew was silent. The voices grew louder again.

"They're obviously stupid. I mean look at what they're doing-"

"Do they even care what they're doing to the country?"

"They're ruining everything. We-"

"The democrats need to-

"The republicans won't-

No no no no no no no. Matthew was the only one that could make it stop.

"No, it's okay brother. It's fine… We can get them to stop alright?" Yes… thank you. Thank you. "How does that sound?"

"Good."

They could fix it. They could… They could make things better.

The next thing he knew the eyes were gone and he felt more tears. His mind started to calm down. He remembered that Matthew had helped him with this before, had helped him through it. Matt didn't make him stop hiding.

The battle started to go away. The arguments fell to a whisper. His brother kept telling him that things would be okay.

Then, Matthew pulled back and smiled softly, his voice still quiet. "How about we get you a drink?"

Alfred hesitated. No one besides his twin had seen him like this before and he hadn't ever wanted them to. What would they think? What would they call him?

"Don't worry." Matthew assured, holding out a hand to help him up. "I'll talk to them."

He nodded and grabbed hold of the hand.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
They were driving back home now. He wasn't driving of course, Matthew was. The ride had been talkative and he was thankful for that. Matt knew what to do to keep him from wandering off.

"Are they any better?"

It took Alfred a moment to think of what his brother was talking about. He supposed that was a good thing though. "Yeah, they are." The phantom pains he usually felt during the… whatever it was… The ones that made him feel like he was splitting in half were gone now. Or at least faint enough to the point where he could mostly ignore them.

"Okay, that's good."

They were headed home and he supposed Matt would be staying over. That was what he usually did after this had happened. "Want to play some games later?"

"Sure."

They both knew that they would be playing none that involved wars.

"Board games?"

"Definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter was stupid but I couldn't think of anything else. I will be posting the other two chapters very soon because its about time they saw the light of day.


	3. Old Routine, New Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is worried about what the other nations will think, but maybe he doesn't need to be.

It had been quite a while since the last incident.

The other nations had- surprisingly or not- kept quiet about the issue. As far as he knew, they hadn't mentioned a word of it to anyone else, and it gave him a little less to worry about.

Alfred had been doing well… or… at least better than he had been doing before. He had improved at keeping his mind from wandering, and that had kept the fits of anxiety and panic under control for the most part.

However… that had begun to change.

It was less than a year until the election now; until he got a new boss. That aspect in itself was frightening, especially with the changes that new leader could bring. But what was even more terrifying was the thought of the debates and the slander that would come from the preparations; the out roar that would come from either side that didn't get their way.

There was something else too, but he refused to think of it. Not now.

He was at another meeting. This one was routine, actually. Not particularly for the leaders so much as the personifications themselves. Their bosses thought it was a good idea for them to get together every now and again to talk about policies or recent events. It was normally the G8 and surrounding countries that showed up, but normally a few others would end up being invited.

Usually they ended up getting extremely off topic. The first portion of the meeting was always reserved for getting caught up on paperwork, but after that… it was free game. The last time, most of them had shared youtube videos and games, and the time before that the meeting had ended with a very competitive round of Angry Birds to see who could get the highest score.

That didn't mean they wouldn't do their work, but they didn't have the meeting exclusively for it. And… as far as he knew, their bosses were well aware of that.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that the meeting had only started forty-five minutes ago and his boss would be disappointed if he skipped out. The point was that he was already feeling his mind going exactly where it shouldn't.

…The point was that every time he tried to read his paper work his breath caught in his throat.

Alfred scanned the room. The turnout to this meeting had been small… it was just the G8 that had showed up. They all knew, so it wouldn't be a surprise… But that didn't make it any less embarrassing. And it certainly didn't make him feel like they had stopped watching him.

Sighing softly, he focused on the papers in front of him again. Blue eyes skimmed the words, trying to see anything else but what was on the page. After a few seconds, he looked up. Matthew was sitting only two chairs away, his eyes glued to his papers.

There was always an open policy between them. It had started when they were children, and had come back stronger after they had settled their disagreements. If one of them needed to talk, or wanted company, or couldn't handle something on their own… all they had to do was ask. Alfred knew this, and yet…

No, I… I shouldn't bother him. I can handle this for now…

…but even as he returned his gaze to the table, he knew that he couldn't. The words on the page didn't seem to make sense. Some stood out more than others, like they were some weird language he only knew pieces of, and instead of beginning to come together they took on thoughts of their own; brought out all the terrible feelings he was trying to keep the other nations from seeing.

It wasn't a gradual process like the last time. No, this was more like the times it happened when he was by himself. There were no murky voices slowly trickling in; no faint recollection of what was happening. It was like he was being attacked, one after the other, by his own children.

They came seemingly out of nowhere and began to berate him. They weren't happy, and he knew that. There was always something wrong; something he hadn't done right, something he could change. There was always something about him that they didn't approve of.

And as they continued he could think of everything that was happening; the debates, the election drawing nearer and nearer and nearer. The shootings that were still so recent his mind. And again and again he rushed to what could happen. All the changes that his new boss could make. All the possibilities.

His pulse was pounding in his ears. The stress just kept building, and it wouldn't stop here. No, it would keep going until the votes came in, and even then it would just go on and on and on until-

The room was beginning to fade out around him. The already dim sound of nations conversing was dying quicker and quicker.

Not here! Not again!

Just when he was about to reach the point of no return, a hand rested on his shoulder. A voice cut in through the stress induced haze in his brain. "It's okay, al… it will all be okay."

Some part of his brain breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god for matthew…

"Just breathe. Its okay."

Oh, right, breathing. That was a thing. He'd forgotten. Slowly, he took in a breath. Then another.

"Good. You're doing good." Matthew's voice was really quiet. Maybe by some miracle the other nations hadn't noticed yet, and he was trying to keep it that way. "It's okay."

Slowly, the room began to come back into focus. There was the table, and his paperwork. All of the nations, most looking at their own work or their phone. Alfred glanced to his left, where Matthew was now sitting. He still had to focus on his breathing and his thoughts, but he managed to sign a quick, 'thank you.'

Matthew smiled, signing back, 'You're welcome.' They usually talked like this during meetings. It was easier, and it didn't call as much attention. His brother raised an eyebrow, continuing, 'What happened?'

He pointed to his paperwork, shutting the folder that he had brought it in. When Matthew nodded, he motioned towards the other nations. 'They see?'

'A few,' was the response.

Alfred made a face, cursing himself. Hopefully they wouldn't give him a hard time about it… He had to stop doing this. He was a superpower for god's sake. He couldn't just… lose it.

There was a poke to his shoulder and the American raised his head, looking at the now frowning face of his brother. "It's not your fault," he whispered, the sudden change seeming loud. "It really isn't."

It would be useless for him to argue… 'Okay,' he signed, shifting his eyes to the table.

Matthew sighed softly and leaned forward. They trailed into silence, but they both knew that wouldn't help. And then, suddenly… "If they give you a hard time, I'll rough them up." The Canadian smiled. "You know I will."

That brought a smile to Alfred's face. His response was still a bit halfhearted, but it was getting there. He wondered for the millionth time how he had gotten so lucky to have Matthew for a brother. "You have your hockey stick?"

His brother leaned in slowly and whispered conspiratorially, "It's in my car."

This was what they did. When one of them was down they would always work to bring the other back up. Nothing had changed that.

Alfred smiled wider, though when someone suddenly sat in the seat next to him good mood slipped away. He turned, both surprised and not surprised at all to see that it was Kiku.

"Konnichiwa, Alfred-kun. Matthew-san."

Matthew had tensed next to him. He was already going into protective mode. While Alfred glanced his way, trying to assure that his friend meant no harm, he had a hard time believing it himself. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Kiku had noticed what had happened. "Uh… hey, dude."

For a moment, the older nation looked at his closed paperwork folder, but seemed to disregard it just as quickly. Instead, he pulled out his phone. "There is a game I have been meaning to show you. Is now a bad time?"

"No, um…" He was acting like nothing had happened… That was a relief. "Now is good, I guess."

"That's good," Kiku held out his phone, his expression the same as always. "I think you will like it."

Alfred raised an eyebrow when he saw the screen. It looked to be some kind of cat collector app. "Huh…" Of course, it looked like Kiku had mastered the game. He showed it to Matthew briefly. "Is it free?"

Kiku nodded. "Is it alright if I find it for you?"

Seeing as he had no idea what the game was called, the American nodded. "Sure…" He gave the older nation his phone. Kiku spent a few moments typing, clicking, and then presumably waiting for the app to load. Then he handed the device back, giving him a small smile.

Alfred clicked a few times on the app. The tutorial was already popping up. "…Thanks, Kiku. It looks fun."

The man nodded, and looked ready to say something else, but Feliciano suddenly called from the other side of the room, causing many to jump, "Kikuuu! Could you show me how to get the gourmet cat?"

The Japanese man nodded before smiling apologetically his way. "If you have any questions you can text me. You too, Matthew-san."

Alfred nodded, huffing in amusement when he saw Matthew had already downloaded the app himself. As Kiku returned his seat next to Feliciano, they both set their phones down. His brother had relaxed, but still glanced his way with a raised eyebrow.

Alfred shrugged, suddenly suspicious. He closed out of the app and went to his text messages. Kiku's number immediately pulled up. A message was already typed.

'If you ever need a break during a meeting you can say so. It's no trouble. None of us mind.'

Oh. He… he hadn't been expecting that. And he certainly hadn't been expecting to feel guilty about it, either. But… if the pressure on him was just going to get worse, then… maybe it was a good thing.

Though one part of him said the opposite, he couldn't help but hope. Things had to get better, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And by posting them soon I mean posting them now. Haha. Hope you all enjoy these. I have one more to put up because the election last night was stressfull as all hell.
> 
> And yes, the game is Neko Atsume.


	4. Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alfred is having serious Election Day anxiety.

Alfred was wrecked.

It felt like it had been ages since he had been to the last meeting and, in fact… it had. He hadn't meant to miss them, of course, but… things had gotten a little out of hand. He had tried to keep up with it all, and still participate in the nations' meetings, but the closer election day became the harder he felt it was to focus.

And with that came, well… everything else.

The other nations that knew had tried to help, sure. Yao kept messaging him advice, from sagely wisdom to little things he could do to help with his stress. Kiku often let him in on new games and manga when he had the time. Ludwig, though Alfred wasn't sure what the poor guy was thinking, offered him tips on organization. Feli offered some different kinds of music that usually calmed him down, and brought up the topic of anxiety meds, if things got worse. Francis and Arthur had been on his ass frequently, trying to help in their own ways. The Frenchman usually gave him snack or food to take back with him at meetings. Arthur had tried the same, and Alfred was fairly sure he had ended up falling back on magic for help at some point.

Matthew… Matthew had done enough. Alfred wasn't sure how he had ended up with a brother as great as him.

And how had Alfred repaid him? He… he wasn't actually sure right now, to be honest. He couldn't think. Heck, he could barely remember to breathe.

His earbuds were stuck in his ears, moving from one reassuring song to another. Or, at least, they should have been reassuring. What he suddenly began hearing was a jumbled mess, tuning in and out of the songs.

The voices were already coming. He knew that. He could hear that. Anxiety was quickly turning to panic in his chest, and he wanted it all to stop.

A bitter laugh caught in his chest as he rested his head against the table…Like that would happen.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
The room had slowly gone quiet. It had become a routine for the nations aware of the situation to check on Alfred during meetings, whether any of them wanted to admit it or not. And they could see that at the moment he wasn't doing particularly… well.

It had been a surprise to them he had even shown up at the meeting, especially with Election Day so close. Some had figured he needed something to try to get his mind off of it-to give him a change of scenery. Still, they felt a certain anxiety when they hadn't seen Matthew come in with him.

And now their failure to directly address that little detail was biting them in the ass.

The G8 looked between themselves nervously, watching the normally boisterous American, hoping he might snap out of it. The few nations who weren't privy to what was going on were even more wary.

"Is… is he okay?"

Everyone turned to Lovino, each eyeing the other to see who would jump in and explain. It wasn't unexpected he would notice something was going on. In fact, it was rather obvious something was wrong.

The older Italian, in response to their lack of response, raised an agitated eyebrow. He glanced between the group and Alfred, searching for other nations who looked just as confused as he felt. He needed someone to give some sort of explanation. Alfred wasn't talking up a storm, his breathing was uneven… he had been bad near election days in the past, sure, but this was a whole different level of bad.

When he didn't receive an answer he turned to Feliciano, his gaze unsure now rather than frustrated. "Is… is he having an anxiety attack?"

Feliciano gave an uncharacteristic frown, oddly calm. "Um, fratello… lets go outside a moment. I'll explain." He stood, casting a worried glance on his friend. "It will be fast."

Lovino nodded slowly, and Feliciano motioned for the other uninformed nations to follow. The situation wasn't ideal, but it would be even worse to have confused nations asking questions in the midst of a panic. They had learned that from last time at least…

The two Italians stopped on the way out the door. Lovino motioned to the American, who hadn't fully gone into an attack yet, but was definitely on his way. "For God's sake, someone sit with him."

Like magic, the stunned group of nations began to move. Francis went with Feliciano to make the explanation quicker, while Kiku sat next to Alfred. He was unsure of how to act in front of his panicking friend, and didn't want to startle him like last time. Texting had seemed to work before, but he wasn't sure if the American could even hear or see what was going on around him.

It was worth a shot. He sent a one word text, and saw the phone light up. Alfred hardly gave a response, only wincing slightly from what was probably the alert tone in his earbuds. It did take his attention for that brief moment, though. Noticing this, Arthur came up and gently took the earbuds from his ears. He moved to put his hand on Alfred's shoulder, but Kiku stopped him.

"Not yet." He had done a bit of research since the first incident. He knew a little more of what not to do.

The Brit blinked, but nodded. He appeared to be chastising himself, so he had probably done his research too. He didn't look comfortable about it, especially when Alfred's breathing grew more and more unstable, but he started talking with him. It was little things, like the weather outside or if Alfred had seen the lovely architecture on the way to the meeting building or the Cubs beating the Indians in baseball. In the midst of that he gave soft reminders to breathe.

The words had little effect on Alfred, though he appeared to be latching onto them more. All the nations could agree it was a good thing that they had noticed the signs earlier.

After a few agonizing minutes, Feliciano returned with the other nations and Ludwig emerged from the back of the already present group. "I called Matthew," he informed, not looking happy, "He's on his way, but he didn't even know Alfred was here. He thought he was at home."

No one was happy to hear that. Feliciano sighed softly, but nodded. He took Kiku's spot next to Alfred, and spoke in a calm and soft voice. "This is temporary," he assured. "Breathe…" He had been such an idiot the first time. He had dealt with these attacks himself, but had never had to calm anyone going through one before. "Is there anything I can do?"

Alfred took in a gulping breath, though no one was sure if he could hear them. "Matt…"

Feliciano nodded in understanding. "He's on his way…" He glanced around the room. An open area would be nice, but they didn't have the luxury of moving Alfred out of the building right now. "Is it alright if I, or Arthur, touch you?"

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed, and his breathing was still ragged. It looked like the attack was escalating… but he nodded a bit. "mhmm…"

Arthur gently rested a hand on Alfred's shoulder. The American flinched, but the touch didn't increase his panic as much as it did before. Feliciano met Arthur's eyes, and the man nodded. He spoke softly, "We're going to move you, alright lad? Just a bit." When Alfred managed a nod again, he smiled reassuringly. "Good. Breathe…" The two helped him to the floor some feet away, where he wasn't stuck against the conference room table.

"Alight, you're doing good." Feliciano muttered, moving in front of Alfred. "Try to focus on me, breathe with me…" He rested his hand on the younger nation's upper arm, hoping that might help. It looked like Alfred was in pain, and Feliciano knew from personal experience that he actually be. "Ready?"

Alfred barely nodded, and they spend the next, continuously agonizing minutes with breathing exercises and attempts to distract him. And then, at long last, a certain Canadian walked through the door.

It was like someone had thrown sunshine into a deluge of rain, and their relief was indescribable.

Matthew sat next to Feliciano, slowly meeting the other nations' gazes with a newfound respect and gratitude. He gave a brief nod and heartfelt, "thank you," before he brought his attention to where it ought to have been. "Hey, Alfie, it's me. It's Matthew…" He pressed a hand to the side of his face. "You're doing good… everything's okay. We've been down this road before, you're going to be okay." He smiled softly. "Try breathing with me, alright? That sound good?"

"…s'cold..." The sentence was the closest thing Alfred had gotten to coherent since the attack started. The words were calmer as well as he leaned into his brother's hand.

Matthew nodded. "Yeah, it's cold outside. I'm going to have to build a blanket fort with you when we get back home… You ready? One…"  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
The room was silent again, but this time with relief. The nations sat around Alfred, who was finally starting to recover. He was still shaky, but his breathing, at least, had returned to normal.

"…hey, um…" The American looked up briefly before he stared at the hot chocolate like he was drinking it with his eyes. "…thank you. All of you… Sorry, about..."

The nations seemed to collectively shake their heads as Alfred trailed off.

"It's not your fault," Arthur assured.

Many nodded, even the ones who had just found out about the ordeal. Yao met the younger nation's eyes, smiling. "No personifications walk alone. We'll all be here to help you, no matter what happens." He added, his expression turning wry, "and if you ever need a vacation spot I've got a million of them."

Alfred laughed, and, to them, it felt like it was the first genuine sound they had heard from him in ages. "I might just take you up on that…"

And then came the chorus of words from the other nations, all reassuring in their own ways.

"You're not going into this alone."

"We'll help you get through this."

"No matter what happens, we're here for you."

Alfred smiled, and nodded in thanks, unsure of how to properly respond or show his gratitude. He wasn't alone with all of his stress, all of his problems… He didn't have the world in his palms or at his feet, but it felt more reassuring than he could admit that they had his back… no matter what the votes said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I was having some serious anxiety yesterday over the election. If any of you were too, I hope this helps a little.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my fanfiction.net account. I'm editing it, working on another story to post here... 
> 
> My dad watches stuff about politics- really close minded politics, mind you- all the time and it really gets on my nerves so I guess that's where this came from. This is a multi-chapter fic.


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